Movements
by LadyWordsmith
Summary: Too long to technically be drabbles, too short for much else, but each piece has it's own theme! Little glimpses into moments in life, thoughts, motivations. Edward's POV mostly so far, though others will pop in from time to time! Suggested themes/topics welcome!
1. Guilt

Guilt

Guilt

Edward has a long time running affair with guilt. He wallows in guilt. There's plenty of it after all; guilt over failing to bring back his mother, for nearly destroying his brother, for making Winry cry so many times. He feels guilty about Hughes' death, and his inability to save Nina; for letters never written, promises broken, words never said. He feels guilt about what happened in Liore and the things that were done to Rose. Then there's guilt over joining the military against everything Izumi taught him; for the agony and irritation he has caused her. He's trouble for everyone he knows.

The ironic part is, he's not all together sure he doesn't enjoy it in some sick way. Guilt and he are old friends now, constant companions that travel together well. Perhaps its not healthy. Perhaps there are ways to deal with the guilt, get past it, but he doesn't really care about those. Edward doesn't mind the guilt. For all the things he's done, he deserves it. He feels guilty about 'that' too.


	2. Need

Need

Need

Too late, he figured it out. When there was no way to give in to overwhelming need. Not want; not desire; but need. Edward needs Winry. He knows that now. Sure, without her, his auto-mail used to fall apart within weeks. He's learned to take care of it though, and that's not why he needs her. He loves her cooking; stew and pies, delicious words of edible art that fill the nose and the mouth with incredible taste, and leave his stomach satisfied. Still, he can cook for himself; he can buy food. That's not why he needs her.

Edward needs Winry's advice, the way she could come in, calm as you please, and know the right thing to say when he feels like the world is wrong; or he's had a quarrel with Alphonse and isn't sure how to fix it.

He needs her voice; sweet or screeching it doesn't matter, in his ears. He needs her smile that brightens his heart. He needs those moments when their eyes meet, and they both look embarrassed at being caught, and he wonders what she's thinking, and he knows she's probably wondering the same thing.

He needs her hands; fierce hugs or fine-tuned mechanics; they are strong hands, healing hands, but he loves the fact that, despite all her hard work, they aren't rough. Winry's hands are still a woman's hands. He remembers, though never told her, the way they feel on his skin, whether she's tending a fever or an accidental brush while working on his auto-mail.

He needs her eyes. They are so expressive, his only clue to what she feels inside so often. Blue, and yet warm; he could get lose in them so easily if he ever let himself. But he couldn't, not without her knowing. And now, he needs that, he needs to look into those eyes and know if she feels the same as he does. That chance is gone.

Sometimes, he even needs a wrench to the head. He'd take one, and be happy about it, if it meant he had Winry.

Edward's known a lot of wants in his life, a lot of painful desires. He's learned the difference though between want, and need. There are only two things in his life that Edward 'needs' now. He has one, he has Alphonse, and he loves and appreciates his brother.

But to get the one, he lost the other. Still he knows, in his heart, that he needs them both. He dreams of Winry, and he knows that it's not just desire, not just want….but need.


	3. Food

Food

Food

Edward eats because he's hungry. Okay, so he's usually hungry! He really enjoys it to; it's practically a hobby. He eats when he's thinking hard, or tense, or nervous. He eats when he's upset, annoyed, irritated, lonely…. Food reminds him of his mother's cooking; of dinner at the Rockbells' with Winry and Pinako. Food is home. A full stomach helps him sleep; it frees his mind up for other things. It's a reminder and an escape. Eating is a painful reminder that his brother can't. Al never complains, but Ed gets everything they buy, anything they catch, and Al will even help cook. So he eats for his brother too.

It's sustenance, that's all. At least that's what Edward tells himself, what he's always told himself. Growing boys are always hungry, especially teenagers. Everyone knows that. Fighters burn a lot of fuel in battle; that has to be replenished. Alchemy uses a lot of an alchemist's energy too, even with the gate, and those stores need to stay full so he doesn't get tired. Anyway, if he's not getting taller, and he's not getting wider, obviously it's not too much! He's no glutton. Really. And yet, for all the things it does, and all the things it can't replace…somehow it never seems like enough.


	4. Drink

Drink

Drink

Sure, Edward drinks. Why not? He's an adult, and here, well, it's even more of the culture than it was in the military. Hell, the Germans take a lot of pride in their beer. Every country in Europe has their own specialty, their own drinks they're proud of. A lot of them are pretty tasty really; a nice way to relax after a hard day, or passing the time in conversation with people he knows, or even complete strangers. Edward's met a lot of interesting people sitting in inns and barrooms on his travels.

And it's not like he's some religious conservative. There are a lot of those here. Edward doesn't care about temperance, or purity of soul. He's a sinner; he knows that, and he accepts it. He doesn't care what anyone else has to say on the subject.

He's learned, finally, why soldiers drink. He knows what real loss is when it comes time and time again, day after day, instead of one immense tragedy that rocks the world. Lots of pain, that beats you down; memories that don't fade. There's the guilt, and the regrets of the life he chose to lead; the decisions he made, whether they were right or wrong, even if, in the end, they were worth it.

Were they, really? People died for his mistakes, and sometimes even for the things he did right. He hurt a lot of people with the best of intentions. It wasn't always fair, and there was often no such thing as an all-win situation. These are the lessons life has offered when it comes to life, and death, and war.

Even half of that would be enough to drive a man to drinking. Edward gets that now. But he's no drunk. It's not his way. It's not conviction; it's practicality. Train the mind; train the body. Abusing the body and mind in any excess is just plain stupid. Edward prefers to keep his wits about him. He's rather fond of his health too. He's got Alphonse back, and what kind of an example would he set for his younger brother if he fell apart now? Besides, he's tougher than that.


	5. Mother Worship

Mother Worship

Edward has always respected mothers, but he never really understood the profound reality of a pregnant woman until now. The changes to Winry's body amaze and frighten him at the same time. Her breasts are large, firm, heavy things that overflow his hands, when she lets him touch them at all. Highly sensitive, they tease him; delightful, fascinating, frustrating. Some days she won't let him near them at all!

Below her breasts is the perfect swell of her belly. Daily it seems, he can see it growing, feel it expand, mark the development of the child in whose conception he was an honored participant. If there is a sacred place in the world, surely it's the womb, he thinks; the only place a baby comes into being before making its journey to the world outside. Winry's stomach surprises him every time he touches it; the soft skin stretched taught like the surface of a balloon, but underneath is solid, firm, protecting the new life within.

Winry teases him about his fascination with her body, but Edward doesn't mind. It's beautiful, natural, and startlingly sexy! He can't get enough of the changes. The sight of her and the feel excites him, though he never thought he'd have that particular reaction! Her sensitivity to his touch only makes him love her more, and wish she would allow him more ready access!

When they sleep, Edward loves it when she lies facing him, her belly pressed against his. Then he can share in the incredible sensation of feeling their unborn child move all night long.


	6. Addiction

Addiction

Addiction

It only took once and Edward was hooked: introduced to a whole new world of sensations he had never experienced, could have barely fathomed. It made his heart pound until he could hear it rushing in his ears; pulsing heat that coursed through his body. His mind went tumbling, barely able to process and fathom what he saw and felt; whirling a million miles a minute. It might have been entirely explainable by a variety of biological chemical reactions, but that made it no less incredible.

The sweetest taste, the adrenaline high. Everything was heightened; the world sharper, clearer, and yet surreal. From every follicle of his hair to the sole of his real foot, every sense was 'on' like it had never been before, even as things stopped making sense. Equilibrium lost; up seemed down and down up. Perceptions were flipped in an instant. The ecstasy was worth it! He couldn't get enough, and he knew he'd always want more.

That was all it took. The morning after, Edward knew he'd never be able to say no to Winry again….

Authors Note: Yeah. Ed's addicted to sleeping with his wife. Lol…. Go figure. ;)


	7. Begonias

Begonias

Begonias

Winry looked out the window, watching in confused fascination as Edward worked on some kind of contraption in their back yard. All she could see of Edward was her husband's backside from that angle though, and he was blocking whatever he was working on. Finally, she had to go out and satisfy her curiosity. "What are you doing?"

Edward looked up, squinting in the afternoon sun, and scowled. "There are rabbits eating our begonias!" he groused and gestured to the thing he had set up. "I'm catching them."

A rabbit trap. It looked more than a little out of place in a suburban Central back yard, but Winry recognized it now, though rigging one without a tree had apparently been a trick. "I'm impressed," she replied after a moment.

"With my clever ingenuity?" Ed grinned smugly.

Winry shook her head. "That you actually know that those flowers are begonias."


	8. Fame

_Author's Note: Today's theme is 'Fame'. I know it's been a while since I posted anything outside of the weekly postings. So I figured since it popped into my head today, I'd go ahead and post it. ;) _

* * *

It's actually funny to think that of all people, Edward would be one to whom fame did not easily go to his head. Cocky, brash, often over-confident Ed. The Fullmetal Alchemist; one of the saviors of Amestris, hero of dozens of high-action adventures and servant of the people. Did money matter? Sure... but only enough to stave off an empty belly or buy critical information.

Those who expected fame to go to his head, just didn't know Edward. It wasn't like he did it for glory, even if there was a very personal gain to be had. He got the rewards he wanted in the end - and even the ones he didn't thought he'd end up with. Al's body... and Winry's heart. He finally had the opportunity to move forward, to be with his family, and raise up more; to fill a house with laughter and love.

Forget the media, the money, the accolades. They're nice and all, but that's not the fame Ed cares about. Okay so maybe the occasional free meals aren't so bad.

Edward likes his new kind of fame. He's famous for his ability to build huge snow forts and use alchemy to fix toys accidentally broken beyond normal repair. He makes great pancakes, and knows tons about camping and has tons of great adventure storie to tell. He's a great teacher - of alchemy and life - and a good listener to the problems of troubled young boys.

He's infamous too. A devourer of the last slice of pie in the refrigerator... after everyone's asleep. A breaker of auto-mail. A wanderer. An amazing lover (or so says one woman).

Of course Edward Elric is famous... his family thinks he's amazing. Sometimes, he likes to let _that_ fame go to his head.


	9. All You Can Eat

_Author's Note: A scene I've wanted to draw for some time but never gotten around to. So he's there written form. ;) Edward vs. the All You Can Eat Buffet. It's not set during a particular time period or version of the FMA Universe, since it could fit in at almost any time or place. I originally envisioned it as during the Teen Years during which all the versions take place._

* * *

The words stared at Edward like a dream far too good to be true. "Really?" he asked, half-skeptic, half-dreamer. "All you can eat for that little?"

"They clearly don't know you, Brother," Alphonse chuckled beside him. "But it does look tasty. If you're hungry, why don't we go in? It's probably the cheapest way to feed you anyway," he teased.

"You don't have to tell me twice," Edward agreed, stepping into the restaurant. "Besides, it's new. We definitely ought to try it out." He had eaten at almost every cheap restaurant in Central, and some not so cheap.

"Good morning," the restaurant owner beamed as they entered.

Edward gestured towards the sign. "Good morning. You're not kidding right? This place is really all you can eat?"

The tall man looked down at him and grinned. "Yes it is."

Edward grinned. "Then you're already one of my favorite places to eat."

_****Two hours later****_

"Full yet?" Alphonse asked Edward from across the table.

Edward looked at the empty plates as he leaned against the back of the seat. "Yeah, I guess so." He probably had a little room left, but he was more or less satisfied.

"You guess so?" Alphonse shook his head. "Ed, you emptied the buffet!"

Edward grinned. "Yeah, so?"

"You're hopeless."

"At least I'm not hungry, and the price was great," Edward stretched and stood up. "I guess we'd better get back to work, huh?" He walked past the forlorn looking owner, staring despondently at the buffet trays which were, truly, almost polished clean. "Great food," Edward complimented as they left.

"You really shouldn't have cleaned him out like that," Alphonse admonished outside.

"Hey, he said all-you-can-eat," Edward objected. "Not all-you-should-eat." He felt no guilt at all.

A moment later, heavy breathing and footsteps followed. "Excuse me, Sir!" It was the owner.

"Yeah?" Edward turned around, trying not to grin.

"You left..." the man gasped. "Are you sure this is correct?" He was holding a small pile of cash.

Edward smiled. "Yeah. Keep the tip."

Understanding, and relief, filled the man's eyes. "Thank you!" He turned and hurried back into his restaurant.

Alphonse looked appeased. "That was good of you, Ed."

"Well I couldn't put him out of business could I?" Edward asked as he kept walking. "I just hope Mustang doesn't blow a gasket when he sees how much this _business lunch_ cost him."


	10. Drizzle

_Author's Note: 7/17/2012. As I mentioned last week at the end of Story 57, I am switching over to some fun themes for a little while while I work on real life stuff, and on working on getting further ahead on Story 58. Please feel free to give me theme suggestions!_

One of the suggested theme ideas I got first was 'Drizzle.' Almost immediately this little scene with Roy and Riza popped into my head. :) So here's a little scene of Royai, set early in their marriage.  


* * *

Roy Mustang sighed as he looked out the window of his downstairs home office. Not only was it depressing to have to spend his Saturday morning working, but it was a gloomy, depressing day outside as well. An irrepressible drizzle that had begun before dawn and persisted all morning misted his window and blurred the view of the house and hedges across the way. All was gray and dreary, and did nothing to lift his mood.

He sighed heavily. At least he hadn't had to go in to Headquarters.

"Well isn't that the sound of a great leader eager to do his job," a low female voice chuckled behind him.

Roy looked up at Riza, who stood in the doorframe holding two steaming cups. "Your Great Leader would rather be enjoying his Saturday in bed with his wife." His beautiful wife, distracting in every way even in casual gray slacks and a fitted soft green turtle-neck sweater; her long hair down.

Riza crossed the room and handed up one of the cups of coffee. "Then why don't you take a break? Amestris won't fall apart if you take a little time for yourself."

"Are you encouraging me to play hookie, Lieutenant?" Roy asked, allowing a teasing note of disbelief to enter his voice as he took the cup and sipped.

Riza's expression was a little too patient. "Of course not, _Mr. President_. I'm merely suggesting that your response to the Assembly's proposition to sell off half of the old drilling grounds outside the city for agricultural use really _can_ wait until Monday, and that you might be more productive in the office if you show up in a good mood. It's a beautiful day. You should enjoy it."

"A beautiful day?" Roy scoffed. "Have you _looked_ outside? It's dismal."

Riza leaned against his chair and slid her hand along his shoulder blades. "I think it's perfect."

Rain, miserable wetness, how could it be perfect? "How's that?" Despite his irritation, his back muscles relaxed under the warm pressure of her fingers.

"It's the perfect day to stay in, with a nice crackling fire, hot coffee... and steam things up." The last was said in a near whisper, her lips tickling his ear.

Roy shuddered... but not because it tickled. "I thought you always said I'm useless on rainy days," he replied, his voice low.

Riza kissed his cheek. "Why don't you prove me wrong?"

Roy put down his coffee and the letter he had been drafting. Outside, the drizzle continued to fall, pushing the world at a distance, keeping it out, while it kept them in... together. "I'd love to."


	11. Wings

_Author's Note: 7/25/2012. The second suggestion in my 'give me some themes and I'll come up with fun little scenes' challenge, was "Wings." And immediately I got a flash back in They-All-Lived-verse (which really needs a shorter name. ;) But really has sort of grown into it's own) back to between stories 7 and 8, to a time when first child Sara was still little, and second child Aldon not yet born; a much earlier time in the adult lives of Edward and Winry. _

* * *

Edward Elric was seriously considering transmuting the weeds in the garden straight into mulch instead of pulling them 'properly', when he heard the back door open and two sets of foot steps on the deck, one light and scampering, the other even more familiar and deliberate.

"Daddy, let's play horsey!" Sara giggled, leaping onto Ed's back where he knelt hunched over the weeds before he had a moment to disapprove.

Practice held his reflexes in check, and Ed made no move to buck his attacker. Instead, he dropped the weeds and ducked his head, sending Sara toppling over him in a somersault so she landed on the mulch, laughing wildly.

Ed straightened up on his knees and grinned at his (four? year old) daughter. "Is it smart to run up on a horsey from behind?"

"No," Sara replied as she turned around, then stood up and brushed the mulch off her purple shorts. There was, thankfully, no sign on his little girl of the injuries she had sustained not so long ago when she had nearly drowned in the river in Resembool. The cast had come off her arm weeks ago, and she was back to herself. She looked up at Ed. "Sorry. Horsey please?"

"I'm trying to pull weeds, honey," Ed pointed out, holding up the hand that still clutched a handful of dandelions.

"You can take a break, Ed," Winry said from the porch.

Ed looked at Winry. "Are you sure?"

"Oh I'm positive," Winry replied with a tired smile. "You can run the munchkin ragged. I'm going to take a nap."

Ed straightened up and dropped the dandelions into the lawn bag at his feet before crossing the yard. "Tired?" he asked as he kissed her gently, his flesh hand resting gently on her growing stomach. He was rewarded with a flutter and a punch from inside. "Or just tired of being a punching bag?" he asked, teasing.

"Can't it be both?" Winry asked. "He or she's not as bad as Sara was but yes, I've just finished that foot repair for Mr. Jenks, and I'm exhausted."

"Then I think I can keep Sara entertained for a while," Ed promised. "Maybe I can talk her into the yard-weeding game."

At that Winry laughed. "Good luck with that one."

As she went inside, Ed turned back to Sara. "All right kiddo. How about some weeding?"

An hour later less than ten more weeds had been pulled, though Ed thought he might have pulled a muscle playing 'magical flying girl' holding Sara up above his head, and then playing tag and running all around the yard, crawling around playing explorer, and a variety of other creative games. Not that he would ever tell his students at Headquarters that he could whip their asses all day but an hour with his little girl could tire him out. Why was that anyway?

Finally he dropped down on the grass when Sara was distracted watching several large, colorful butterflies who had fluttered into the yard and settled on the large yellow and lavender flowers along the fence. "Wings, Daddy!"

"Yes, they do have very nice wings," Ed agreed.

Sara shook her head and turned around, smiling at him expectantly. "Can I have wings, Daddy?"

The words 'kids don't have wings' died on Ed's lips as he looked at his daughter's hopeful expression, then the flowers all over the garden, and started to get a really interesting idea...

* * *

Winry woke from her nap feeling reasonably rested, or as much as she could be lately. She definitely found children easier to deal with on the outside. She listened to the house, but couldn't hear anyone moving around downstairs. Glancing at the clock, she wondered if Ed and Sara were still entertaining themselves in the yard. She doubted much work had gotten done. Ed was just a big kid at heart sometimes after all, and it usually came out where Sara was concerned.

Curiosity took her downstairs. Glancing out past the large windows, she could see Ed and Sara, as he swung her around over his head, Bounce and Oscar leaping around them yapping excitedly. Sara was giggled and waving her arms and flapping her... wings?

Her daughter had a pair of bright purple and gold wings that seemed to be flapping in the breeze!

"What on earth?" she couldn't help exclaiming as she came back outside.

"Look, Mommy!" Sara grinned. "Daddy made me wings!"

"I can see that." Winry looked at Ed, her face conveying a demand for explanation.

Ed grinned sheepishly. "She wanted wings," he replied with a hint of defensiveness in his tone. "So I made some." He nodded towards the flowers as he set Sara back down on the ground. "She wanted to be a butterfly."

Winry looked at the butterflies, and several missing flowers. "You made wings out of wildflowers?"

"Sure," he shrugged. "What would _you_ make wings out of?"


	12. Spam

_Author's Note: 7/31/2012. Appropriate for summer and camps (my son just came home from his first sleep-away experience), I got a request for "Spam." (Spiced Canned Ham for any readers who are for some reason not familiar with this infamous canned meat product). So here we have a lovely little flash-back to Teen Ed and Al (during the series, either of them), and spam._

* * *

"Oh geez Al, not more of that stuff!" Ed complained as he watched his brother twist back the top of a can and dump what looked like a rounded-edged rectancle of dog food into the pan he was holding over the fire.

Spreading the meat around and patting it down to cook more evenly into a patty shape, Al glanced over at Ed, and only the eyes in his armor could convey the annoyance and yet amusement he seemed to feel at his brother's complaint. "Oh stop complaining, Ed. You should feel lucky we could afford anything on what you had, and that they had something this cheap left."

"It's not my fault it was a seasonal herding village," Ed grumbled, leaning back against the log and trying to ignore his insides eating away at his spine. He was starving...but did it have to be that stuff? "And if you had to live off nothing but cans of preserved spiced ham you wouldn't be happy either."

"Funny, I thought you liked spam," Al teased.

"Not as breakfast, lunch, and dinner for five days straight!"

"I think we have enough for at least two more... if you go light," Al chuckled.

Ed chucked the empty can at Al's head, where it clanged off the top and skipped into the brush outside the fire ring.

"Hey!" That's not nice," Al objected. "Do that again and I'll dump the rest of the food and you can just go hungry until we find another town."

Ed's stomach had nearly eaten through to the outside. "Uh...no, that's all right Al," he backtracked quickly. He didn't want to starve, and Al might do just that! "I ah... that smells tasty."

A week of nothing but spam... it was almost enough to make him go vegetarian.


	13. Apple

_Author's Note: 8/7/2012 Someone else suggested "Apple." Now, of course, apples do play a part in FMA, so it wasn't difficult to put this juicy tempting fruit in front of Ed and see what happened. In this case, the setting is the early years of Ed and Winry's marriage, pre-children._

* * *

Saturdays were the best days. Instead of being up early, out the door, and chasing potential alchemists around all day trying not to beat them _too_ senseless, or out on a mission trying not to get his auto-mail busted up again, Edward could laze about, sleep in, revel in a long shower... and spend lots of very personal time in bed with Winry.

At least, he could when she didn't get up early anyway.

Ed rolled over and his arm found the empty space that Winry occupied at night, and already the morning sheets were cool. _Thanks for waking me. _Ed sighed and stuck his head out from under the covers, listening for any sounds that might tell him how late in the morning it was. Rolling over to look at the clock behind him seemed like too much energy to bother with at the moment.

No shower, but he thought he heard footsteps in the kitchen. His first day home after being gone on a four day mission and he didn't even get a welcome home breakfast? His stomach snarled its displeasure, and he rolled out of bed, feet thumping on the wooden apartment floor, and stepped out into the living area.

Winry was hurrying about, dressed for the day, hair up, looking like she was going out at any moment.

"What's the fire?" Ed asked as she grabbed her keys and turned towards him instead of the door.

Winry smiled. "Well while you weren't here, I didn't really have to shop for two... so we're out of cereal. I'm going shopping."

Ed's stomach roared louder, threatening violence. "So what am I supposed to eat," he grumbled, frowning.

"Just be patient," Winry smiled and came closer and kissed his cheek. "As soon as I get home I'll whip something up. You're welcome to scrounge through whatever we have if you can't wait. Just _don't_ touch the apples in the fruit basket."

Apples? Ed perked up. "Why not?" he asked.

"Because if you do you'll need stitches in places I'm too polite to mention by name," Winry threatened, then smiled again. "Just trust me. You'll be happier if you wait until I get home."

"Fine, fine." He wasn't going to argue when she was that set on it. He was sure he could find _something_ to tide him over. "How long do you think you'll be gone?"

"On, not more than a couple of hours," Winry assured him as she turned for the door.

"Wait _hours?_"

"Yeah, I need to run a few other errands while I'm out. Enjoy your morning, Ed!"

When she was gone, Ed scoured the kitchen from top to bottom, but Winry hadn't been exaggerating. She hadn't bothered to restock without him around to empty the kitchen, so other than a near-empty box of corn flakes, a mostly black banana, a container of wheat germ, a large stalk of celery, and a thankfully half full and still steaming pot of coffee, there was nothing to eat.

Nothing except that beautiful pile of yellow and red apples, glistening pristinely in the fruit basket in the center of the table.

Winry's threat came back to him and, with a wince, Ed finished the cereal -which filled less than half a bowl- the banana, and even half the stalk of celery -grimacing through it- and drained the remaining coffee, but it did almost nothing to satisfy his hunger. Not that he had expected it too. He needed heartier fare!

His eyes turned once more to the apples. So smooth, so firm, so colorful; he could almost smell their juicy insides...

Ed shook himself, moved away from the table, and pulled out a book he had been meaning to read. Sure, he could distract himself until Winry got home.

On page seven the author started talking about his mother's apple pie.

Ed put down the book. A shower sounded good. He cranked the water up until the bathroom was filled with steam, and stepped in, reveling in the soak and letting the shampoo and conditioner sit longer than he usually got to. Then he reached for his bar of soap...and found that the remaining sliver was far too small to be useful. Poking his head out of the shower, he grabbed a container of one of those softer body soaps Winry was fond of, popped it open and sniffed it... it smelled... edible.

With a sharp jerk of his head, Ed looked at the flavor; Strawberry-Apple.

He made do with the remaining sliver of soap, ignoring his grumbling stomach as best he could, which had grown into a roaring beast.

Ed tried to do some stretches, but the apples kept drawing his attention, and at one point he almost fell over in the middle of a backbend when his nose managed to catch the subtle aroma of the apples on the table anyway.

The living area was declared hostile territory. Ed retreated to the bedroom.

The sound of movement in the kitchen bringing him awake was Ed's first clue that he had passed out on the bed when he had flopped down in frustration. This time, he rolled over and looked at the clock. It was nearly noon. He sniffed the air.

The apples were still haunting him... only now, they smelled even better, and overwhelming in the whole apartment. Slowly it began to come back to him, how all his dreams had involved apples in some way or another, including an apple tree that chased him down and forced him to eat rotten crabapples.

The door opened, and Winry poked her head in. "Oh good, you're finally awake! Don't you want to eat?"

"Is there food now?" Ed asked.

"Well of course there is," Winry rolled her eyes. "Can't you smell? Come on, I've got lunch ready, unless you don't want it."

"Oh no, I want it!" Ed leapt off the bed and followed her back into the living area.

There on the table, next to the plates holding large sandwiches and cups of juice, fresh and golden and steaming, was a fabulous apple pie.

"Thank you," Winry kissed him on the cheek again.

"For what?" Ed asked, confused. "You made lunch."

Winry smiled mysteriously.


	14. Yarn

_Author's Note: 8/14/2012. This week's suggested theme was "Yarn." So we have another visit to the past, to Edward's teenage State Alchemist years (fits in any of the worlds really), on a mission with someone who doesn't get to show up nearly enough._

* * *

There were worse things than being caught out in the rain without cover on an assignment.

Like being caught out in the rain without cover on an assignment... with the Strong Arm Alchemist.

Or... being caught out in the rain without cover on an assignment with the Strong Arm Alchemist... with a huge hole in one sock.

"Oh, yuck, this is gross." Ed pulled off the nearly destroyed sock as he sat crammed into a cave under an overhang in a rock face, that was far too small in his opinion given Armstrong took up roughly half of it, and the fire in front of them only made the space seem even smaller. His socks, like his boots, pants, and half of the rest of him, were cold and stiff and caked in mud. "That's the last time I let you talk me into being bait for guard dogs."

"I'm sorry, Edward," Alex commented, looking at least half-way actually sorry. "But the ploy worked, and we'll have those stolen military messages back in Central in no time."

"Yeah, if those friendly fuzzballs don't find us first." Ed wrung out the socks once he had both off stuck them out in the rain for a minute, and then used alchemy to pull most of the water and mud out of them, so they were just damp, but relatively clean. He fingered the huge hole in the bottom. "Damn it, that was my last pair." And, if he was honest, there wasn't enough material left to transmute them whole again. Al had chided him about not having enough good pairs of socks before he left on this assignment.

"Let me see that," Alex cried excitedly, snatching away Ed's sock before the teenager could stop him.

"Hey, give me that!" Ed reached out, but missed. "What do you think you're going to do with an old sock? I'm not eating it."

"Of course not, Edward!" Alex scoffed as he reached into his travel pack and started fishing for something. Almost immediately out bounced a bawl of yarn... .bright, orange, fluffy yarn.

Ed recoiled. "Major, why do you have ugly yarn in your bag?"

"For emergencies just such as these," he chuckled deeply, pulling out a pair of humongous needles.

For a moment, Ed thought he might crawl out of his skin. But these weren't medical needles, just huge, metal, blue things. "What, you're going to knit us out of here?"

"Not knit," Alex shook his head as he picked up the ugly orange yarn and the sock. "Darn!"

"What's wrong?"

Alex looked amused. "Very clever, Edward. This darning technique has been in the Armstrong family for generations!" And with that, he began to use the yarn to do something to the huge hole in Ed's sock.

Ed couldn't help but watch as, within a few minutes, the entire hole in his sock had been filled by orange yarn. It was even, thick and, most importantly, it looked warm. Given it would be stuffed in his boot, he supposed he could live with orange. It was better than pink. "Wow... thanks, Major." He took his sock back, inspecting it. "That's actually sort of cool."

Alex's deep rumbling voice filled the little cave as Ed put his newly dried and repaired socks back on. "I hope not, Edward. They're support to be sort of warm."


	15. Tangled

_Author's Note: This week's theme suggestion was "Tangled." So of course, it has absolutely nothing to do with horses, princesses, or hair. Falls into the They All Lived timeline._

* * *

"Grandpa... Grandpa!"

Ed blinked, and looked up from his book to find Callie standing next to the couch looking hopefully, and mildly annoyed... probably because she had been calling his name for almost a minute. "Can I help you ladies?" he asked, teasing as he spotted Lily standing behind her.

Will you _please _come help turn the jump ropes?" Callie asked, holding up two blue and pink ropes in her hands. "We want to double-dutch, but we need a third person."

They wanted him to help with jump rope... "Why don't you ask Grandma?"

"Grandma went shopping with Mom and Aunt Cassie," Lily spoke up.

"And neither of your dads are available?" Naturally, Ed thought, his sons would have abandoned him to this during Ethan and Lia's summer visit.

"They're in Daddy's workshop and there's loud noises and the don't-come-in sign," Callie pouted.

"What about the guys?" He had a pile of grandsons they could choose from.

The look on both girls' faces told Ed that they thought that was a very stupid question.

"All right," Ed sighed and put down his book. He smiled at the little blonde and redhead in front of him. "How could I say no to two pretty ladies like you?"

The squeals of delight as his granddaughters bolted for the door was almost worth it, except for the ringing eardrums.

* * *

"Winry, I thought you said Ed would be here to watch the girls," Cassie commented as she and Lia followed Winry into the house, which appeared to be as empty as the front yard.

"He was," Winry set down the shopping bags and looked over at the couch, where she had left Ed absorbed in a book. The book was lying on the back of the couch. Puzzled, she wondered where he had gone. "Ed?" she called out, but the house remained quiet.

After a few moments, mad giggled erupted behind the house.

"Well I think we know where the girls are," Lia commented, heading across the living room towards the back.

Winry and Cassie followed, as Lia opened the door.

Wrapped snugly in two jump ropes, Ed looked up at them with an abashed grin as Callie and Lily darted around the grass in what looked like a triumphant war dance of some sort.

Winry tried very hard not to laugh. "What is going on here?" she asked, stifling a chuckle.

"Jump rope turned into state alchemists and robber... " Ed explained. "Guess who got to be the robber?"

When the girls started giggling, Winry gave up. "Well, I have to admit, it's probably the best casting job."

"Hey!"


	16. Fire

_Author's Note: 8/28/2012. The suggested theme was "fire."_

* * *

Every so often, the fireplace becomes the center of the Elric household. Rare in a house of boisterous children, busy work schedules, regular visitors, and a bouncy dog. People are always coming in, and going out - to Headquarters, to Rockbell Auto-mail, to school, to friends' houses, shopping, the cinema, the grocers. Evening evenings are full of dinner, homework, baths, family games.

In warm weather or cold, it is almost never a quiet house.

Then every so often, it happens. The power goes out, or snow falls thick enough to pen everyone inside on a winter's evening.

Then the logs, always laid in lying in wait, are lit, and the living room is filled by a warm golden glow that shimmers off the glass windows and bathes the room in good cheer.

The hot dogs come out over the crackling flames, and the marshmallows and the old fashioned popcorn popper. While food is devoured everyone talks about the things they aren't doing, and plays imaginary games with the shadows on the ceiling. Then tea kettle whistles and water becomes tea or hot chocolate, and the family cuddles together on the floor and couch in thick fluffy blankets.


	17. Costume

_Author's Note: 9/14/2012. Before I get into my little explanation of this week's theme, I just want to let you know that I will be taking a posting break (much as I don't want to) for a bit. These are fun, but they are not doing the job I set for them at the moment, which was to give me something quick to post that would not take up much time while I worked on getting more of the primary storyline written. However, life keeps getting busier and while I am still making progress, I am not managing a chapter a week, which means I do not feel that the next story should be posted until it is finished (or I start managing a chapter a week again, which ever comes first). My goal is to have it done by (or through) November, which is National Novel Writing Month. I may still post little themes, or Specials I've been meaning to write as I am inspired, but my focus writing-wise needs to be story, and I don't have much free time at all at the moment._

I will try and keep folks updated on my main bio page as to how the story is progressing and when it will begin posting! Thanks everyone for your patience and understanding.  


_And now, on to the theme!  
_

_This week's theme is one of my own devising, "Costume." Because every so often even our favorite characters have to play dress-up. ;) Once again the early pre-kid married days of Ed and Winry. (Use of alchemy precluding the Brotherhood storyline)._

* * *

"It's a costume party, Edward."

"And I am not wearing that!" Ed objected to Winry's exasperated comment, pointing at the fabric in her hand.

"Awww, I thought you'd make an adorable sheep," Winry replied with a look that was half amusement and half I-am-about-to-kill-you-put-it-on.

"I refuse to be a farm animal," Ed insisted again, shuddering. He was not going to a costume party -_why_ did they require costumes this time?- at HQ. "Can't I be oh... an international spy or something?"

"Do you know how much it costs to rent a really good tuxedo?" Winry asked with a roll of her eyes. "I thought of that. Besides," she teased, "No one would believe it."

"Well I won't be a sheep."

"Fine," Winry tossed the white wooly thing at him in annoyance. "Come up with your own costume. That was the only thing left in the store in your size."

Ed let the sheep hit the floor. "What's that supposed to mean?!"

"It means," Winry smirked as she left the bedroom, "That I had to choose from the kid's section."

"Damn it. I am not that short!"

* * *

Winry left Ed ranting in the bedroom while she showered and got into her own costume, which she had to admit, with a twinge of guilt, was far better than the one she had been able to hunt down for Edward. Not that she had really expected him to like, or wear, a sheep suit with a blue ribbon collar and a bell on it. She had decided it would have been even more unfair if she had gotten the matching shepherdess costume and led him around by a hook all night.

Her wandering gypsy costume was far more flattering, and adult. With the head scarf, large hoop earrings, and soft purple-grey dress with a red-gold-and-black striped scarf with fringe that she wore around her hips. She, at least, didn't look half bad.

Finally, she had to check on Edward, who had gotten worryingly silent after several minutes.

As she opened the bedroom door she came face to face with a debonair man in a dashing black suit, with white shirt, blood-red tie, and shiny black shoes, his long blond hair pulled back tight. He looked... hot! But where could he have possibly gotten that costume?

Ed's grin turned wicked as her mouth dropped open.

"Ed...how did you...?"

"Simple," he shrugged casually, his voice just a bit deeper than usual as he affected a 'secret agent' mode of speech. "That costume was made of real wool."

Winry sighed and took his arm. "No fair using alchemy."

"Next time," Ed chuckled, "Don't go shopping without me."


	18. Resolutions

Five. Four. Three. Two...

Ed didn't see the clock tick down to midnight. Winry's lips on his were far more interesting. After years on the go, he would never get enough kisses.

As they cuddled on the couch later, sipping glasses of wine, his left arm around her shoulders, Winry smiled at him. "So do you have any resolutions, Edward?"

Ed shook his head. "I don't make New Year's Resolutions." He hadn't made one in years. "I set goals."

A puzzled look. "And what's the difference?"

Ed squeezed her shoulders with his arm. "I only set goals that I can't afford *not* to meet."

"All right. Then what are your goals this year?" she asked curiously.

"Not to kill Roy Mustang."

Winry chuckled. "Well, that shouldn't be hard."

"That's what you think," Ed retorted.

"So is that it? That hardly seems like a new start."

"Oh, that's not all." Ed promised her, his expression softening as he pulled her closer. "I do have one new goal. Might be a challenge though."

"Oh, what's that?"

"I'm going to kiss you every day... even on days when you might want to kill me."

That got the reaction he was hoping for, a chuckle, and then a soft smile that grew with realization. "You know, that means you have to be here every day."

Ed smiled as he bent in to kiss her again. "I know."


End file.
